


Every Day: Klance

by Hamburger_Helpard



Category: Every Day - David Levithan, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Gen, How Do I Tag, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-05 21:25:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15872022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hamburger_Helpard/pseuds/Hamburger_Helpard
Summary: “L” is a travelling spirit who inhabits a different body each day, they have 24 hours to live life to the fullest in whatever body they wake up in. One day they wake up in the body of Rolo, the boyfriend to Keith that is quite neglectful. Every day L and Keith need to find eachother while L is in a different body each day... will it work for them or will it result in heartbreak?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first work on here! So this is a Klance AU based on the events of the book/movie Every Day... Please comment what you think of it so far! I will be adding tags to this as I go, so that i won’t spoil anything :P

Day 5994

 

I wake up. 

I have to find out right away who I am today. It’s not just who’s body i’m in- Opening my eyes and seeing if i’m in the body of someone who’s light or dark skinned, hair is long or short, heavier or thinner, girl, boy or in between- The body itself is the easiest thing to adjust to, if you’re used to waking up in the body of someone else like I am. It’s the life they live that’s the hardest to adjust to... that’s the hardest part. 

Everyday when I wake up i’m someone else- I know i’m myself- But I’m also someone else. All of the information is there. I wake up and open my eyes, understand that it’s a new morning and with a new morning comes new information. It has always been like this... The biography kicks in from the not-me part of the mind. Today I am Rolo. Somehow I know this- My name is Rolo- And at the same time I know that i’m not really Rolo. I am just borrowing his body for a day. Well, more like borrowing his entire life for a day. I look around and I know immediately that this is his room, messy clothes, more video games then books... Yep i’ve been in bodies like this before. His alarm will go off in 7 minutes. I’ve never been in the same body more than twice but i’ve definitely been in many bodies like this before; it’s the typical teenage boy now a-day’s. From the taste of his mouth he’s a smoker, but not so addicted he needs one right when he wakes up.   
“Good morning Rolo” I say to hear what his voice sounds like. Low. The voice in my head is always different.   
Rolo does not take care of himself. His scalp itches, his eyes don’t wanna open... He hasn’t gotten much sleep.   
I already know i’m not gonna like today.   
It’s hard to be in different peoples bodies everyday, One slip up and their entire life can be ruined! It’s especially hard when you’re in the body of someone you don’t like though, You have to be extra careful to still respect it. I’ve harmed peoples lives in the past and trust me, it haunts me to this day. So i try to be careful. From what I can tell, every person’s body that i’ve inhabited has been the same age as I am. I don’t hop from 17 to 70, Right now it’s only seventeen. I’ve never figured out how this works... or why. I’ve just learned to deal with it and accept it. I stopped trying to understand it a while ago, because I realized that I will never figure it out. Just like any normal person will never figure out their existence. You have to have peace with the fact that you simply are who you are at some point... There is no way to know why. You can have theories, but not proof.   
Unfortunately I can only access facts about a person, not feelings. Like I know this is Rolo’s room but does he like it? I have no clue. Does he want to murder his sister in the next room? Or would he never make it to school on time if she didn’t make sure he was awake? It’s impossible to tell. It’s like that part of me that has all of these emotions replace that part of the person when I inhabit their body. I’m extremely glad to be thinking like myself, but it would be extremely helpful if something could hint towards how the person thinks... that would be very helpful. But we all contain mysteries, especially when seen from the inside.   
The alarm goes off. I get out of bed and grab a flannel and jeans. I take the clothes with me to the washroom, get showered and then I get dressed. I realize his parents are in the kitchen now while his sister is probably getting ready. They have no idea i’m not actually their son or brother.   
Sixteen years is long enough to have a lot of practice. I don’t usually make mistakes, not anymore. I read his parents easily, he doesn’t talk with them at all in the morning-I have a feeling if they tried talking with him he’d ignore them- I have gotten used to sensing some form of expectation in people over the years. I quickly eat some cereal, grab his car keys and then head out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Yesterday I was a girl in a town where i’d guess is around 2 hours away, the day before that I was a boy in a town 3 hours farther than there! I’m already forgetting their details.. I have to or else I’ll forget who I really am.   
Rolo listens to loud obnoxious music on a loud and obnoxious station where loud and obnoxious DJs make loud and obnoxious jokes as a way of getting through the morning. This is all I need to know about Rolo, really. I access his memory to show me the way to school, which parking space to take, which locker to go to. The combination. The names of the people he knows in the halls.  
Sometimes I can’t go through with these things... I can’t bring myself to go to school, or even get through the day. I’ll say I’m sick, stay in bed and read a few books. But even that gets tiresome after a while, and I find myself up for the challenge of a new school, new friends.. for a day.  
As I take Rolo’s books out of his locker, I can feel someone hovering on the periphery. I turn, and the boy standing there is transparent in his emotions—tentative and expectant, emotionally closed off yet so adoring. I don’t have to access Rolo to know that this is his boyfriend. No one else would have this reaction to him, so unsteady in his presence. He’s very handsome, but he doesn’t see it. He’s hiding behind his black hair, happy to see me and unhappy to see me at the same time.

His name is Keith. And for a moment—just the slightest beat—I think that, yes, this is the right name for him. I don’t know why. I don’t know him. But it feels right.  
This is not Rolo’s thought though, It’s mine. I try to ignore it. I’m not the person he wants to talk to.  
“Hey,” I say, keeping it casual.  
“Hey,” he murmurs back.  
He’s looking at the floor, at his inked-in Converse. He’s drawn cities there, skylines around the soles. Something’s happened between him and Rolo, and I don’t know what it is. It’s probably not something that Rolo even recognized at the time.  
“Are you okay?” I ask.  
I see the surprise on his face, even as he tries to cover it. This is not something that Rolo normally asks. And the strange thing is: I actually want to know the answer. The fact that he wouldn’t care makes me want it more...  
“Sure,” he says, not sounding sure at all.  
I find it hard to look at him. I know from experience that beneath every peripheral boy is a central truth. He’s hiding his away, but at the same time he wants me to see it. That is, he wants Rolo to see it. And it’s there, just out of my reach. A sound waiting to be a word.  
He is so lost in his sadness that he has no idea how visible it is. I think I understand him—for a moment, I presume to understand him—but then, from within this sadness, he surprises me with a brief flash of determination. Agression, even.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!   
> My instagram: multi_fandom_art_  
> My twitter: Bleu569
> 
> I don’t have an upload scheduele yet as I’m in school and I really only write when I have the time to... If I can start one i’ll let you guys know!


	3. Chapter 3

Shifting his gaze away from the floor, his eyes matching mine, he asks, “Are you mad at me now too or what?”  
I can’t think of any reason to be mad at him. If anything, I am mad at Rolo, for making him feel so unloved. It’s there in his body language. When he is around him, he’s more closed off, less open with his arms and posture.  
“No,” I say. “I’m not mad at you at all.”  
I tell him what he wants to hear, but he doesn’t trust it. I feed him the right words, but he suspects they’re threaded with hooks.  
This is not my problem; I know that. I am here for one day. I cannot solve anyone’s relationship problems. I should not change anyone’s life. I turn away from him, get my books out, close the locker. He stays in the same spot, anchored by the profound, desperate loneliness of a bad relationship.  
“Lunch together today is still on right?” He asks.  
The easy thing would be to say no. I often do this: sense the other person’s life drawing me in, and run in the other direction.  
But there’s something about him—the cities on his shoes, the flash of bravery, the unnecessary sadness—that makes me want to know what the word will be when it stops being a sound. I have spent years meeting people without ever knowing them, and on this morning, in this place, with this guy, I feel the faintest pull of wanting to know. And in a moment of either weakness or bravery on my own part, I decide to follow it. I decide to find out more.  
“Absolutely,” I say. “Lunch would be great.”  
Again, I read him: What I’ve said is too enthusiastic. Rolo is never enthusiastic.  
“No big deal or whatever I’m just hungry already” I add.  
He’s relieved. Or, at least, as relieved as he’ll allow himself to be, which is a very guarded form of relief. By accessing, I know he and Rolo have been together for over a year. That’s as specific as it gets. Rolo doesn’t remember the exact date.  
He reaches out and takes my hand. I am surprised by how good this feels.

“Don’t judge my sappiness” He starts and pauses for a moment “But i’m really glad you’re not mad at me” he says. “I just want everything to be okay.”  
I nod. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: We all want everything to be okay. We don’t even wish so much for fantastic or marvelous or outstanding. We will happily settle for okay, because most of the time, okay is enough.  
The first bell rings.  
“I’ll see you later,” I say.  
Such a basic promise. But to Keith, it means the world.  
At first it was hard to go through each day without making any lasting connections, leaving any life-changing effects. When I was younger, I craved friendship and closeness. I would make bonds without acknowledging how quickly and permanently they would break. I took other people’s lives personally. I felt their friends could be my friends, their parents could be my parents. But after a while, I had to stop. It was too heartbreaking to live with so many separations.

I am a drifter, and as lonely as that can be, it is also remarkably freeing. I will never define myself in terms of anyone else. I will never feel the pressure of peers or the burden of parental expectation. I can view everyone as pieces of a whole, and focus on the whole, not the pieces. I have learned how to observe, far better than most people observe. I am not blinded by the past or motivated by the future. I focus on the present, because that is where I am destined to live.  
I learn. Sometimes I am taught something I have already been taught in dozens of other classrooms. Sometimes I am taught something completely new. I have to access the body, access the mind and see what information it’s retained. And when I do, I learn. Knowledge is the only thing I take with me when I go.  
I know so many things that Rolo doesn’t know, that he will never know. I sit there in his math class, open his notebook, and write down phrases he has never heard. Shakespeare and Kerouac and Dickinson. Tomorrow, or some day after tomorrow, or never, he will see these words in his own handwriting and he won’t have any idea where they came from, or even what they are.  
That is as much interference as I allow myself.  
Everything else must be done cleanly.  
Keith stays with me. His details. Flickers from Rolo’s memories. Small things, like the way his hair falls, the way he bites her fingernails, the determination and resignation in his voice. Random things. I see him dancing with Rolo’s grandmother, because she’s said she wants a dance with a handsome boy. I see him covering his eyes during a scary movie, peering between his fingers, enjoying his fright. These are the good memories. I don’t look at any others.  
I only see him once in the morning, a brief passing in the halls between first and second period. I find myself smiling when he comes near, and he smiles back. It’s as simple as that. Simple and complicated, as most true things are. I find myself looking for him after second period, and then again after third and fourth. I don’t even feel in control of this. I want to see him. Simple. Complicated.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time we get to lunch, I am exhausted. Rolo’s body is worn down from too little sleep and I, inside of it, am worn down from restlessness and too much thought.  
I wait for him at Rolo’s locker. The first bell rings. The second bell rings. No Keith. Maybe I was supposed to meet him somewhere else. Maybe Rolo’s forgotten where they always meet.  
If that’s the case, he’s used to Rolo forgetting. He finds me right when I’m about to give up. The halls are nearly empty, the cattle call has passed. He comes closer than he did before.  
“Hey,” I say.  
“Hey,” he says.  
He is looking to me. Rolo is the one who makes the first move. Rolo is the one who figures things out. Rolo is the one who says what they’re going to do.  
It depresses me.

I have seen this too many times before. The unwarranted devotion. Putting up with the fear of being with the wrong person because you can’t deal with the fear of being alone. The hope tinged with doubt, and the doubt tinged with hope. Every time I see these feelings in someone else’s face, it weighs me down. And there’s something in Keith’s face that’s more than just the disappointments. There is a gentleness there. A gentleness that Rolo will never, ever appreciate. I see it right away, but nobody else does.  
I take all my books and put them in the locker. I walk over to him and put my hand lightly on his arm. I have no idea what I’m doing. I only know that I’m doing it.  
“Let’s go somewhere,” I say. “Where do you want to go?”  
I am close enough now to see that his eyes are violet. I am close enough now to see that nobody ever gets close enough to see how violet his eyes really are.  
“I don’t know,” he replies.  
I take his hand.  
“Come on,” I tell him.  
This is no longer restlessness—it’s recklessness. At first we’re walking hand in hand. Then we’re running hand in hand. That giddy rush of keeping up with one another, of zooming through the school, reducing everything that’s not us into an inconsequential blur. We are laughing, we are playful. We leave his books in his locker and move out of the building, into the air, the real air, the sunshine and the trees and the less burdensome world. I am breaking the rules as I leave the school. I am breaking the rules as we get into Rolo’s car. I am breaking the rules as I turn the key in the ignition.

“Where do you want to go?” I ask again. “Tell me, truly, where you’d love to go.”  
I don’t initially realize how much hinges on his answer. If he says, Let’s go to the mall, I will disconnect. If he says, Take me back to your house, I will disconnect. If he says, Actually, I don’t want to miss sixth period, I will disconnect. And I should disconnect. I should not be doing this.  
But he says, “I want to go to the ocean. I want you to take me to the ocean.”  
And I feel myself connecting.  
It takes us an hour to get there. It’s late September in Maryland. The leaves haven’t begun to change, but you can tell they’re starting to think about it. The greens are muted, faded. Color is right around the corner.

I give Keith control of the radio. He’s surprised by this, but I don’t care. I’ve had enough of the loud and the obnoxious, and I sense that he’s had enough of it, too. He brings melody to the car. A song comes on that I know, and I sing along.  
And if I only could, I’d make a deal with God.…  
Now Keith goes from surprised to suspicious. Rolo never sings along.  
“What’s gotten into you?” he asks.  
“Music,” I tell him.  
“Ha.”  
“No, really.”  
He looks at me for a long time. Then smiles.  
“In that case,” he says, flipping the dial to find the next song.  
Soon we are singing at the top of our lungs a pop song that’s as substantial as a balloon, but lifts us in the same way when we sing it.


End file.
